Torn Photographs
by bipolar broadway baker
Summary: Isaac's father was found gutted in an alleyway, and the newly bitten werewolf has no one but his pack to fall back on. Until his estranged sister shows up- lovely and full of Grade- A Sass- to bury their abusive bastard of a dad. And they end up in more supernatural trouble than they ever would've dreamed. WARNING: aftershocks of sustained abuse, and gorey gore.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! This is my first dabble into the Teen Wolf fandom- please be kind. This an AU from OMEGA (2.01), and I hope you like it!**

** To those reading You'll Never Walk Alone or Minor Fall Major Lift: I'm taking a break- hopefully not too long. My meds are killing me right now, and I just need to step back from my Supernatural fanfics so I can refocus them. You guys deserve better than half-assed, rambling updates from an emotionally compromised me. This is simpler and has an easier flow for me right now. **

** Let me know what you think! :) **

** I don't own anything. (except my OC) **

Scarlet leaves and chilly, wet air swirled around the late night streets of Beacon Hills, and a light drizzle was threatening violent storms for the early morning. Slick asphalt rolled under tires as a worn four wheel drive sped around the bend. The edges of the preserve looked dark and forbidding and delicate hands squeezed the steering wheel in uneasiness.

The young woman pushed her hair from her forehead as she pressed on the gas, anxious butterflies tossing around the little she had eaten that day. She hadn't been home in years.

She'd say it had been too long, but she was still repressing the urge to reverse her way all the way back to Vancouver.

There was so much to do. Funeral arrangements to make and a house to sell and an apartment to move into. A brother to reconnect with. He was gonna be so pissed at her. She was pissed at herself for the both of them.

She could only hope Isaac would understand.

The apartment was right on the main road, and practically next door to the hospital. Right above the pharmacy, still run by Ms. Brownstien. She used to babysit the old bat's children- who'd grown and left- and the lady was more than understanding of her need of a place to stay, and rented it to her for next to nothing.

It wasn't every day that your father died, according to her.

The space was open and warm, with a view of the preserve in the distance. Beacon Hills had always been wealthy, and even the flat above the drugstore was beautiful. It was lovely, and the girl felt a bubble of excitement; she was home. Home for the first time in almost six years. Her baby brother was alive and- hopefully- well, and her old life was just begging to be reminisced on.

There were things to do, places to go, and yeah, it wasn't the best circumstances to return, but she might as well make the most of it. Grace Lahey pulled fresh sheets over her new mattress, and collapsed back onto the bed, holding the picture frame to her chest as she inhaled until she felt her ribs could crack with the expansion. It felt liberating after a headache inducing car ride, and she smiled down at the glossy photo. Three curly haired children gripped each other tight and grinned out at her. A pang of sadness seared into her heart when she looked at Camden- Grace couldn't make it to the funeral, she couldn't even come home when they brought him back in a pine box. The research was too critical and she had signed her contract to not leave the site, but that didn't mean she couldn't regret it. Then she looked at Isaac and Grace felt warmth pull up her smile. He was so young- almost 11- in the picture, and she knew with a soft nostalgia that she was returning to a brother who'd grown up. Grace felt the flipping of anxiety, but also the excitement to see him again.

They had been so close, it had torn her apart to leave him. But Camden forced her on the Grey Hound bus and handed her her duffel with a kiss to her forehead. It was the last time she saw him.

He got her accepted into some wildlife research program in Canada, and sent her away shortly after their mom died. Dad got so angry, and he drank all the time, and she'd been scared. Camden was too. He said he "couldn't stand it if Dad laid a hand on her". He wasn't worried about him or Isaac. Apparently, he was their to protect the youngest brother. But then he left for war. Grace could never bring herself to think about what had could have happened to little Isaac since Cam left.

And now it was just her and her baby brother.


	2. Chapter 2

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Isaac hadn't been in school lately. He didn't know what to do. He didn't have any friends to stay with, he didn't have any other relatives- none that he was in contact with- and the cops did nothing but talk about foster care and murder suspects. He couldn't go in to school, all he got was pity and hushed rumors.

They thought _he_ did it.

Isaac had no one now. No one but the pack, and Derek was being so good to him. He felt at home with his alpha and the pack, but he couldn't stay with them. Derek had a track record, and the sheriff wouldn't even consider the idea. Isaac was living with Stiles and his dad now. He internally rolled his eyes at the fact that the sheriff was probably just keeping an eye on him for 'murderous tendencies' or something. Stiles understood, though. He was nice, Isaac was happy to consider him pack and maybe even a friend.

He left for school with Stiles each day, but he didn't actually go. Stiles would drop him at the edge of the preserve, and Isaac could make it to the Hale house in no time. The sheriff didn't know- or he just didn't say anything. Isaac was uncomfortable with the man. He was too quiet, too kind, and too understanding. He didn't trust any of it.

It was a Saturday, and Isaac groggily padded downstairs from the guest room. The sheriff was drinking coffee at the table, and looked calculatingly at him over his newspaper.

"Morning, Isaac."

"Good morning, Sir." He mumbled it, unsure of what to do- again. The older man drew his lips into an exasperated line as he sighed. His dad used to do that when he was disappointed. Swallowing a lump of cold fear, he looked down at his toes.

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me John?" He asked. If Isaac didn't know better, he'd say he sounded almost amused.

"Um, I- I'm sorry, Sir, I forg-"

"It's okay, Kid. I'm messin' with you. Don't worry about it." His eyes bore into Isaac with that stupid concern that the sheriff fixed him with almost all the time. The teenaged werewolf just continued staring at the kitchen tile under his feet, uncomfortable and scared to move.

"Why're you up so early? Stiles isn't awake on a Saturday til at least 11."

It was 8:30. He always woke up early. Isaac just liked the the quiet in the early morning. At least, he _did_. When he had a house.

Was he mad? Did the sheriff think it was suspicious that he was awake? Did he think it was burden to have him downstairs while he was peacefully reading the paper? He hated how he shook slightly, and clasped his hands behind his back as he shrugged jerkily.

"I don't know- I- I just always do. I guess."

There was that furrow of eyebrows and sad expression again.

"You're welcome here, Isaac. Have some coffee, take a seat." He'd been saying that since the second he got there. He was welcome in their house, he was welcome. Take a seat? It had to be a trap.

But this wasn't Dad.

So he cautiously and carefully got a mug from the cabinet, rarely turning his back on the sheriff, and pouring himself some steaming coffee. The kitchen chairs were wooden and hard, but were comfortable in a way that screamed to be relaxed in. So, Isaac sat on the edge of the chair and slouched in on himself.

Moments passed in silence, and Isaac tuned in to hear the birds outside. He could hear the steady heartbeat of Stiles, sleeping upstairs, the neighbors sleepily kissing good morning, the baby shrieking her parents awake in the corner house. There was a family of raccoons living under the porch of the old lady across the street, and a mole burrowing deep under the Stilinski's garage. He listened to every sound because he had to focus on anything but how Stile's father was burning holes into the side of his curly bed head with the sheer force of concerned frowning.

"-eep okay?"

"Excuse me?" The sheriff quirked an eyebrow as Isaac finally met his gaze, if only for a second, before the gray eyes settled back on the wood grain of the kitchen table. Isaac could feel the blush burning in his cheeks.

"Did you sleep okay?" He repeated.

"Oh, yeah. Fine, thanks." He spoke softly and hurriedly. Newsprint wafted up around them to the werewolf's nose as Mr. Stilinski folded up the paper and leaned in a little, fixing him with another look.

"How are you holding up?"

"Fine." Stupid. It was an automatic lie- call it force of habit- and Isaac bit his lip after the word slipped out.

"You can talk to me, Isaac, I'm not gonna-" a big, calloused hand reached out and the weight almost settled over his limp hand.

But it shot back with a jerk. Isaac dropped the hand into his lap, and tried to calm the racing heartbeat hammering in his chest. He didn't dare look up at the sheriff. The silence was already heavy.

"I..." He exhaled, long and sad "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

It wasn't okay. Well, it didn't feel okay: it felt stupid, and hopeless, and cowardly.

"It's fine." He kept his voice light and careless. The sheriff just nodded thoughtfully and sat back in his chair.

Time passed slowly after that. Isaac drained his coffee cup and set it in the sink, before darting back up the stairs. Derek had called a pack meeting the night before, and it wasn't til noon, but he wouldn't mind if Isaac came sooner. He didn't even care that he'd have to walk. He just had to get out of this goddamn house.

He came back to the house late- about 11:30- and Stiles parked his jeep haphazardly in the driveway. A rain streaked Nissan was parked on the street in front of the house, and a vaguely familiar, homey smell drifted to Isaac, mixing with the heaviness of a fresh storm in the air.

"That's weird. Dude, can you hear what they're saying? Who is it?" Stiles prodded. Isaac smiled a little at the human, and tried to tune further in to the mumbling in the living room.

"It's... It's a woman." He said, pausing to listen closer to the words, but they were so garbled. "I can't get anything else." He apologized.

"A woman? Why the hell-" Stiles cut himself off, stumbling out of the car. Isaac followed slowly. He wasn't sure that he liked this too much.

"Hey dad, were home!"

"Living room." Was the only called response, bringing the two boys to exchange a glance before toeing off their sneakers and following the request in the words.

Stiles went straight to one of the unoccupied chairs in the room, across from the couch with the sheriff and a young woman sitting with cups of abandoned coffee on the table between them. Isaac hung in the doorway, paralyzed in a staring contest with the girl, who was now taking him in like he was the most beautiful person on the face of the earth. He met the slightly teary blue eyes with a confused scowl, letting the consuming betrayal and grief and hopeless relief bend his expression.

"_I-Isaac_" She breathed out with an awestruck smile, standing up and practically gliding towards him like she was some kind of dream.

Maybe she was. He almost hoped it weren't true, but he wasn't _alone_ anymore, and that meant so much he could burst.

"H-hi..." He answered lamely, trying not to freak out too much as Grace came to rest a delicate little hand over his cheek like she could sense how many times it had been bruised and cut.

"Please tell me you remember me, or this is... This is super awkward." She gave a watery giggle as her hand slid down to the juncture of his shoulder and neck. He tried to ignore the tingling feeling and warmth of the beautifully familiar laugh and soft touch.

"_Gracie_" he mumbled breathily, overwhelmed by the tightness in his throat. He just wrapped his long arms around her little body and pulled his sister close, burying his nose in her hair. She gripped him back with vice-like hands and sobbed against him, and he hoped that it overshadowed his own hitching breaths. They stood like that for a long moment, and Isaac felt himself pull back with a watery, genuine grin. "Of course I remember you, Stupid..." The words lacked any bite, and she wiped at his cheeks as she laughed back at him.

"I hate to interrupt, but- Isaac- your sister and I've-"

"Sister?! Dude, since when do you have a sister?" stiles trailed off at his Dad's withering glare. He coughed before continuing.

"- been talking for a bit, and we'd like to have a chat with you, too." The sheriff motioned for them to come back to the couch.

"Oh yeah-" Grace bounced a little, grabbing his hand and tugging him toward the Stilinski's sofa and sitting him down between her and the sheriff. Stiles was slack jawed and- for once- at a loss for things to say.

"Isaac, the department needs to know the full extent of your father's abuse and the exact events of the night he died. Anything you remember could be helpful, and'll get you completely off the suspect list-"

"It's ridiculous that he's there in the first place." Grace snarked, and Isaac honestly had no idea where the sudden anger came from.

"How would you know? You haven't seen or talked to me since I was 10."

That shut her up. He couldn't bring himself to truly feel bad about the coldness in his words, but there was a nasty twist of guilt mixed with the satisfaction of _finally_ calling her out. She didn't get off that easy: just showing up 6 years later didn't make it okay that she left in the first place.

Grace looked sheepishly down at her lap and winced. "I'm so sorry." She choked out, fresh tears welling up, and they'd get nowhere if she got worked up like this. He laid a hand forgivingly on her back.

"It's not important now."

The sheriff cleared his throat a little, and fixed Isaac with a look. "We need to know anything you can tell us- Stiles, go upstairs, this is private-"

"No, he can stay." Isaac surprised himself as he said it "I... I trust him- as long as he doesn't interrupt." Isaac gave his friend a pointed look and slightly sad smirk before he took a long breath to think of where to start the story.


	3. Chapter 3

**Short and sweet. :) There's some references to Isaac's abuse in this chapter though, so be warned. **

** Should there be any romance in this story? Not for Isaac, I ship myself with him too much haha :)... But Grace? Let me know who you think she should be paired with (if anyone). **

** REEVIEWWW OR I WON"T CONTINUEEEEEE :)**

** Enjoy.**

** I own nothing. **

"I- uhm... My- /our/" he gestured haltingly to grace "mother died when I was 9. My dad started drinking a lot, and that was around when grace left. Camden looked after me for the most part, but he left too, and then dad got angrier. He started hitting me more, instead of just yelling"

John Stilinski was a responding officer to the suicide of Eleanor Lahey. The house had been just as overcast as the cloudy skies, and it had stayed that way ever since.

Now that the Laheys were back under investigation he remembered the past years a lot more clearly: Melissa McCall brought Isaac up every once in a while, saying how he was back in the ER _again_ the night before or something, and it was a wonder that he'd lived this long if he was as clumsy as he claimed. Stats in the department file stated over 20 noise complaints from neighbors in just the first year after the mother's death. "Yelling and banging sounds" sparked public interest in the shy little family, but it quickly petered out- something the sheriff never fully understood. That Jackson kid was so cold and calm, telling him that his neighbor and classmate was getting the shit beaten out of him every night. Why did he never speak up?

No wonder Isaac never trusted anyone: John wouldn't either if everyone around him turned a blind eye to him and a hellish life like that.

He could see the kid getting more uncomfortable, fidgeting with his hands and dodging everybody's gazes.  
"The- what really qualifies as 'abuse' with you people? I just-" Isaac stuttered and rung his hands, pleading with his entire body to just make this stop.

That pulled at his heart, and the older man gingerly reached out and gripped the tense muscle of the teenager's shoulder. He couldn't let him drop this- it would really help to get him off the suspect list.

And John would be lying if he said he wasn't curious. In a sad, morbid sort of way.

"Just keep going like you are, Isaac. You're doing fine." He tried to reassure, but he'd never been too good at that. His big, hopelessly innocent looking eyes fell into his lap and he took a shaky breath.

"At first he just hit me. If I didn't do something he asked- he'd hit me. If my grades dropped below a C- he'd usually start throwing things... B-but anything could be deemed f-f-freezer worthy. If he was in a mood, or something..." He trailed off, picking at his nails in his lap and staring into space. It took a minute for the sheriff to realize that Isaac was gonna need a bit more prompting to talk anymore. He slid his hand down, rubbing his hand over the young mans upper back like he used to do for Stiles. Isaac didn't even notice it.

"Isaac?" Grace murmured, getting down to his level and into his line of sight. She took his hands in hers and stopped his fidgeting.

Grace Lahey was a nice girl. He remembered her, but not much. Pretty, sweet, and incredibly smart from what he'd been told. She had spent the last six years cataloging data for behavioral biologists in Canada, and she was just 22 years old. When she showed up on his porch in the pouring rain, not two hours ago, asking for the teenaged murder suspect he was housing, he'd been more than a little shocked.

She got her brother to meet her eyes, and smiled, watery and heartbroken. Isaac was playing down the abuse for her sake, keeping it vague- he wasn't the sheriff for nothing, he could tell- and she knew it too.

"What does 'freezer worthy' mean?" She asked, choked and dry like it was the last thing she ever wanted to learn. He shook under John's hand, and flexed his hands out of his sister's grip.

"Please don't touch me." The sheriff and Grace both not only let go, they scooted back from him on the couch. Just a little, so Isaac didn't feel suffocated, or clam up. "In the basement, there's an icebox-type freezer. He never plugged it in, but it was still always colder in there-" Isaac gave a small cough, and seemed to pull his clothes a little tighter around himself "anyway, if I- if I did something wrong, he'd take m... We'd go downs-stairs and he..."  
The father in him practically roared, and he suddenly regretted not having killed Brian Lahey himself.

"He locked you in a freezer?" John couldn't quite keep the incredulous disgust out of his voice.

"For how long?" Stiles had been doing some crazy fidgeting and contorting over in his chair, trying to keep his mouth shut. It was miracle he'd lasted as long as he had without exploding.

"Um. Hours at a time... It- I don't really know how long. I'm kinda claustrophobic, so... Hours felt like days." He was shaking hard now, trying to keep it together. Grace sobbed for the both of them and pulled her brother close, just squeezing him tight. "It would've happened whether your were there or not..." He murmured against her ear, and wrapped his own arms around her.

John looked over at Stiles, knowing that he was intruding on a private moment. His son didn't seem to have the same reservations, though, watching the pair with slightly misty brown eyes.

John had dealt with his fair share of domestic violence cases, but never like this. And never with a kid this young: Isaac was 10 when the abuse started. When Stiles was that age, he was playing with Legos and learning how to make pancakes with his mom. They'd had quite a bit of grief, and hell of a lot of trouble in their own little family, but he always looked after his son. Always. No one laid a hand on Stiles, and he could only imagine if anyone ever tried.

Isaac was even _younger_ than stiles, though, and he could suddenly see right through the broad shoulders and long legs to a scrawny little boy with big blue eyes, a split lip and tear tracks on his cheeks.

"No one's gonna hurt you again, Kid. I promise." He cleared his throat, hoping no one noticed the rough start in his voice "I just have one more question: when you left that night, were you running because your father was going to hurt you?"

They'd asked that question the first time the department had interrogated Isaac, and the boy was tight lipped. He wouldn't give any clear answers, barely even opened his mouth. It wasn't until now that John realized just how terrified the boy must've been. He still hesitated, before meeting his eyes and giving a stunted nod.

That was all he needed.

"Thank you, Isaac."

Grace looked up at him with drier eyes, kissing her baby brother's temple and smiling at the sheriff gratefully. he returned it with a lump of sadness lodged in his throat and tried to ignore how empty it would be with just Stiles in the house- something he never thought he'd say. but, Isaac couldn't be with them forever. "You are welcome to leave with Grace anytime after tomorrow morning- I'm sure you're exhausted."

"Leave with...?" Isaac's brow furrowed and he trailed off in confusion.

At that the girl burst into a sudden and full grin, nudging her brothers shoulder and giggling "I've got a meeting set up with Mr. Whittemore. If it's okay with you-" her eyes sparkled with impish happiness as she shot Isaac a look "I'd _love_ to become your legal guardian."

The moment of realization on the teenager's face was one of the most precious things the sheriff had seen since Stiles was little.

His whole face seemed to light up and glow, like he could burst. He split into a grin- something that he'd never seen before. Isaac had never smiled, not near the sheriff, and it was contagious. He was a handsome kid and John really wished that Isaac Lahey would smile more often. It could be an alternative of electricity it was so bright.


	4. Chapter 4

** Hello there. **

** Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews, they make my day! **

** I own nothing.**

** Enjoy!**

"I'm not gonna be here too long: there's a sweet little cottage by the preserve I've been keeping my eye on. But this'll work for now." Grace smiled as she dropped her bag by the door. Isaac only had one small duffel, and it reminded her how desperately she needed to take that boy shopping.

"This is fine. It's great, actually." He nodded at the space, absently smiling. Grace released a breath she didn't know she was holding.

"Good. Your room is the door on the right." She nodded lightly and smirked at Isaac.

"Thanks." He walked over past the open kitchen and dining area to the hallway "oh- I have a couple of things to do with some friends tonight, so I'll be going out later." Isaac said offhandedly when he reached the door frame, then shot her a wicked smile that made him look so much like mom it was a punch to the gut. "But I have nothing to do all day, so good luck getting rid of me til then."

She couldn't repress the mental image of them telling their deepest darkest secrets and braiding each others hair like a stupid chick flick, and barked a giddy laugh before practically shoving her brother into his new room and following him down.

"Hey!" He cried with no bite, mockingly indignant, staring up at her with dirty blond curls hanging in his eyes as she tackled him against the soft carpet and hugging him tight around the middle like they were kids again.

"Who says I'd wanna get rid of you, I missed you so much!" It was only half joking, and Grace giggled, looking up at her brother with a full, genuine grin and he smiled back sweetly.

"I missed you too, Gracie." He wrapped his arms around her and gave her a squeeze before letting go so she could stretch out into her own space on Isaac's new bedroom floor. She sighed contentedly as she rolled onto her back beside him, spitting out her own wisps of golden curls that twined around her as she spun.

"So, how's Beacon Hills? Anyone catch your fancy?" She quirked an eyebrow, making Isaac chuckle shortly "who are these _friends_ of yours? Anyone I should be worried about?"

She meant it as a joke, but she could've sworn she saw Isaac wince a little.

"... Ya okay?"

"I'm fine."

Grace felt a niggling suspicion worm under her skin, and she narrowed her eyes for a second. Taking a deep breath against the small blossoms of irritation, she sat up and fixed her brother with a look.

"You're not gonna do that to me, are you?"

"Do what?" He pushed himself up on his elbows.

"That _thing_- the teenage thing where every sentence somehow morphs into 'I'm fine' on its way outta your mouth?"

He huffed a slightly uncomfortable laugh and rolled his eyes at her with a wry smirk.

"No, that's not gonna happen, Gracie."

She let her lips quirk just a little- those damn beautiful eyes were picking apart her resolve brick by brick.

"Promise?"

His smirk broke into a grin, and suddenly she needed sunglasses. She felt her heart swell a little with pride- just because her baby brother grew up, and _damn_ did he grow up handsome.

"Promise."

And he shocked her by sticking out a pinky finger to her. Grace couldn't repress the bubble of giddy laughter that jumped in her throat- no one had gone for a pinky swear since before she left home.  
In fact, she thought it was a little baby Isaac then, too. And that made her want to dance.

She didn't want to let go when she wrapped her little finger around his.

They unpacked for most of the day. Grace didn't have much to unpack anyway, and Isaac didn't own pretty much anything, but they both managed to move pretty fluidly around each other in the apartment. There was one instance with a plate that got broken, and a considerable amount of talking down for Grace to do when Isaac started shaking like a leaf and stuttering apologies.

Other than that, everything was just dandy. The kid ate like a freakin' wolf or something, but he was still polite, smart, funny- and skittish as hell. But she could change that. He just needed a bit of a nudge to get comfortable in the new place, and she was ready to nudge the crap out of him.

Every time she was with him she could feel the minute little flinches and anxious glances. They were family, and that was supposed to be safe- but apparently that hadn't really come through for him over the years.

Something that drove her crazy.

After the plate, however, everything seemed to calm down. The light was soft and gentle, and the late afternoon sun streamed in through the windows with comforting warmth. The siblings kept up an easy camaraderie, despite Isaac's jumpiness, and they were pretty much completely moved in by sunset.

"I should get going soon."

Oh yeah, she forgot. Isaac had plans tonight. The suspicion from earlier set back in, hanging in the back of her mind and shouting at her to protect and preserve her little brother and his innocence.

He probably didn't have any innocence- he was a teenaged boy, and from a broken home, not trusting anyone, and that made her very sad and guilty- but the point still stood. She was getting a little overprotective.

He'd be fine. Isaac was smart.

"Oh yeah, totally. So where will you be?" Subtle as a monster truck at a Cadillac dealership.

"Uhm, just around, I guess. Probably Scott's or Derek's..." He frowned a little "is that... Okay?"

"Totally fine, yeah." So what if she said it a bit rushed, he didn't notice. "Yeah, I actually need to make some phone calls tonight- Mr. Whittemore and the sheriff and stuff. Have fun, be home at a decent hour."

Isaac gave her an odd look for a second, but she ignored it in favor of sending him a beaming smile.

"Okay." He said as he tied his shoes and headed towards the door "What hour is decent to you?"

She didn't want to suffocate him, but she didn't want him to get hurt or set out too long a leash. Isaac was smart. Responsible. He could handle a late curfew, it was practically a reward- he basically raised himself, with their drunken father along for the ride. If anyone deserved to have some fun, it was her brother.

"Midnight? No later than 2- is that good?"

He nodded appraisingly with a happy smile.

"Kay, see ya later."

The door closed. And she wished she could ignore that nasty feeling that filled the space.

Scott. Scott McCall? Probably. He had always been a good kid, from what she remembered.  
There was nothing to worry about.

But who was Derek?

Grace hadn't actually been planning on calling the sheriff tonight, but maybe it wouldn't hurt to pay him a visit. She had to talk to him anyway, and if some information on a 'Derek' came up... That would be just great.


	5. Chapter 5

**Heddo. :) There's some deviation from canon here- just a warning, if ya don't like that.**

** I'm toying with the idea of Derek and Grace gettin' some lovin'... Review and let me know if you'd be on board with that nonsense. And review anyway, of course.**

** I own nothing.**

** Enjoy! **

Isaac felt himself deflate with guilt as he finally closed the front door of the remodeled and renovated Hale House.

Grace had been here all of 48 hours, and he was lying to her. And it wasn't just some little white lie that could easily be smoothed over: his entire _existence_ felt like a massive, lethal deception that would destroy his and his sister's newfound relationship- hell, it could end up killing her!

But he couldn't just tell her. She'd never believe him, and if she did, shed think he was a freak. A greedy, power hungry, bloodthirsty monster that couldn't be trusted or loved.

It was all his fault. He wanted to be bitten, he wanted to be _strong_ for once in his life, he wanted to have a second chance at a family. But now he was ruining his chance with the family he never had.

Isaac bit down on his lip and rubbed a hand across his face, trying to will away the frustrated tears, because who knows when whoever was in the next room would find him, slumped against the front door. He'd been happy with his new pack, even if they didn't get along all the time. It was pretty hard, dealing with crazy hunters, and rogue packs- like the strange group of werewolves hovering on their borders now- but it was better than anything he'd had before.

So, naturally, blood family that seemed to have no interest in him before just happened to pop back into the picture. Isaac hated this. He had hurt Grace by doing this- by being bitten- even if he didn't know it at the time. It was all his fault, and this could kill her.

And If it wasn't at the hands of the strange pack, or crazed hunters- _he wasn't even human_, and that would be enough for her to die of shock and shame right on the spot.

"Isaac? Isaac, stop!"

A warm hand gripped the back of his neck and he didn't realize he was thumping his head against the door until now, feeling the light throb in the back of his skull. He didn't need to open his eyes in order to know the scent of the alpha- of pack- and he loosened under the touch, looking up at Derek's concerned scowl.

"What the hell are you doing?" He asked, pulling him up to his feet and looking him over. A spark of embarrassment and shame lit up in his stomach, because there was nothing actually wrong. It was just him being a shaky mess, and he was scaring his alpha for no worthwhile reason. Pushing himself away, more on instinct than anything else, Isaac hastily righted his rumpled clothes and hunched posture. It was less than inconspicuous, but he just wanted to pretend nothing had just happened. Derek raised an eyebrow and fixed him with a look that clearly said he was still expecting an answer to 'what the hell' he was doing. Which was exactly what he didn't want to discuss.

"I-I'm fine." He dragged in a breath that was far from fine, but it made him shake less "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" something in Derek's gaze made his voice choke off somehow. It burned in the back of his mind, and suddenly he felt cornered in his basement beside an open icebox and an irate father again. He pulled his shoulders in as close as he could bring his body together, shaking again and trying to make himself as small as possible.

Suddenly, new smells of pack surrounded him and he realized with a mortified pang of fear that he and Derek weren't alone.

Stiles stood in the entryway from the kitchen, and bounced a little from foot to foot, just behind Scott, who was torn between gawking and running to him. Inspecting the air, Isaac couldn't smell anyone else here yet.

Stiles, at least, could tell what was wrong, and pushed past Scott to reach him, flailing a little.

"Come inside- Grouchy over here isn't being the best host." He quipped, shooting Derek a warning look as he tugged him into the house, either not noticing or not caring how Isaac shuddered at the contact.

He kept his eyes firmly on the kitchen floor as he was sat down at the island bar and a glass of water as shoved in front of him. He muttered a thank you, and then several long seconds passed as he collected himself.

"Does this have anything to do with Grace?" Derek finally spoke up, and Isaac felt his head snap over to look at his alpha. He shrugged "I remember her. She was in my math class before she left." He pointed noncommittally at Stiles "he filled us in on your new situation." Isaac could feel his heart pounding in his chest, and Derek could too, coming over and resting a hand on the back of his neck.

Instantly he felt himself calm down, and he sighed quietly. "Yeah. I just... I want her to be safe, especially with the new pack..."

"That's actually what I wanted to talk about-" Derek cut in, looking grave and serious "we should wait until the others get here."

Usually Isaac would relish the idea of being with the pack, but this time he fidgeted. Grace could be in danger right now, and he didn't have _time_ for the pack-

"Don't try it." It was so quiet it was practically all in his head, but Scott met his gaze with a steady warning in his eyes. "It'll only make him angry."

"So, you already tried to make him talk."

The answering grimace and slight blush answered that, and Isaac couldn't help but crack a small smile. The other beta smiled back crookedly and bumped his shoulder sweetly as they all made their way into the living room to wait.

"I want them out. This whole town is starting to reek of them, and I almost full-on turned in front of my _mother_!" Erica said, bursting into the house as the last one to arrive. She plopped herself down next to Boyd in a huff, and he affectionately rolled his eyes. Isaac only had eyes for Derek, though, as he watched his alpha pacing at the front of the living room, waiting for him to tell them.

"The invading pack aren't like us- there's something... There's something _wrong_ with them."

"Wrong as in 'special snowflake' or 'psycho killer'?"

"Wrong as in _feral_. It's like they're too in touch with primal wolf senses, and not engrained enough in human reality- they're unpredictable and very dangerous."

A pit started festering in Isaac's stomach.

"Have there been any other attacks?" Scott piped up, but Derek shook his head.

"Not for a few days" but Isaac could smell the anxiety and despair on him. "This isn't gonna be some territory dispute solved by negotiations. The alpha means to take Beacon Hills, and the pack follows him completely blindly." There was a laborious sigh and Derek let his shoulders slump a little "it's a declaration of war."


	6. Chapter 6

** Hey guys! I hope you like this one, and I'm so dreadfully sorry for the wait- I've been outta town and very busy lately.****  
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"Good morning, Mrs. McCall!"

Melissa's jaw dropped and she started beaming at her, making Grace feel warm and happy. The woman had always had that effect on her- she was just so welcoming.

"Gracie Anne Lahey! What are you doing back here!?" She wiggled around the hospital desk, wrapped her in her arms and brought her in close, holding her tight and giving a squeeze on her shoulders as she pulled away.

"Just, ya know: setting some things in order, with Dad gone and the investigation. And Isaac, of course- I figured I should pay some social calls and make this whole business a bit less _morose_..." She smiled a little sadly- holding onto formalities, like the fact that she was supposed to be _sad_, not _relieved_ that her father was dead. Melissa grimaced, fixing her with a sympathizing look.

"Awh, Honey. I'm so sorry- especially for how Isaac was treated-" Grace felt her heart stop in breathless shock "- after it happened." Oh. She exhaled a discreet breath "the fact that they would even _consider_ him a person of interest is beyond me."

"Oh, it all worked out in the end... I'm proud of him, he's been really strong through this whole thing." That definitely wasn't a lie. Isaac was one of the strongest people she'd ever met, and the fact that he'd only had one meltdown at all over the past few days was a blessing and a... Concern. A big concern. "I did want to ask you a couple things, though- I'm a little worried."

"About a teenage boy? I think I can relate- you will always find something to worry about when it comes to them." She looked back at the clock and smiled delightedly. " I get off shift in about 5minutes, if you'd like to finish my rounds with me?"

Grace laughed at that, nodding eagerly. When she was twelve, her mother started seeing a special doctor at the hospital- a psychiatrist, apparently- and she would sometimes bring Gracie along after picking her up from her ballet lessons. Eleanor was in the office for at least an hour every time, but it was never boring inside the hospital. Melissa had just started working there, and took her under her wing after the girl in the pink leotard ended up getting into patient files out of boredom. Every appointment after that, Mrs. McCall would take Gracie out on her hospital rounds, and taught her the lay of the land.

"I still know this place like the back of my hand." She giggled, and they started a walk up and down the hallways, chatting about their lives, families, and town gossip.

Things Grace had missed like the Dickens while she was away.

"You've got to tell me something, though. I mean, you guys have some rumors flying about you..."

"We do?"

"With everything that's happened? Everybody's leaning in for the scoop on you two. Most of its _crazy_, but I..." Melissa let out a sigh and fixed her with a soft look "Is it true that Isaac was abused?"

"By-by our dad?" Grace choked a little on the words. "Um-"

"I'm sorry, Gracie. I didn't mean to-"

"No, no. It's okay, I-" her heart stalled for just a second, and suddenly all she could think about was how terribly young and _sad_ Isaac had looked and the helplessness of not being able to help him when he told her and the sheriff about what happened to him. She could tell he felt responsible for it, felt alone, and was still scared of someone that would never hurt him again. But she didn't feel completely _sad_ about it.

She was _angry_ at her father, angry at Camden, their mother, herself, and every single goddamn person that ignored the abuse of her poor baby brother.

"- yes." She could feel the pounding of her heart and fought to keep her voice level "actually, that's a part of what I'm worried about." She looked down at her hands and then back up at Melissa- shocked to feel the prickle of tears, and the slightly blurred vision. The woman rested a strong, but careful hand on her bicep and nodded gently "I need your help: it's barely been three full days, and I don't know- _I don't know how to care for a teenager!_ he's so different from how he was: he's so hurt and tired and I feel so terrible- _I abandoned him!_ and I-"

"Don't understand how to help him." She finished for her, smiled and cradled her close. "Let's go talk- you still like coffee, I hope?"

Scott paused on his way out of his room when he heard his mom returning from her first shift.

But she wasn't alone.

There was another, distinctly female scent following her around downstairs. His mom didn't really have friends- at least, not outside of work, and Scott didn't recognize the stranger.

He had to meet Derek and stiles at the preserve in less than an hour, but it would be safer to know who it was, right? With the new pack and stuff?  
Right. Good idea.

"... I just don't know _what_ to do. Isaac- I... He's so reserved. We're walking on eggshells around each other- and it's not all the time- but he's so..."

The voice was sweet and melodic, and her face was striking. If he didn't have Allison, Scott knew he'd be all over this girl (not that he'd ever say that out loud.)

She was young and shimmeringly pale and reminded him of the fancy antique porcelain dolls in old shops. Tear tracks were drying on her rosy cheeks, and her crystal blue eyes were red rimmed and glassy. Dark eyelashes stuck together with tears, in stark contrast to her mounds of wispy blonde curls that framed her face and cascaded over her shoulders and back. She was sitting at the kitchen table with his mom, and she was probably around 5' 2", and light as a feather. The best word to describe her would probably be 'delicate'.

And she was most definitely not a threat to his mother, or a member of the psycho pack.

He breathed out a relieved exhale- wait: were they talking about Isaac?

"Do you think it's because of your father?" His mom was looking at this girl the same way she used to look at him when he first asked questions about the divorce. He didn't know how to feel about _that_. The girl just nodded, new tears spilling over her cheeks. "Okay, there's definitely some post traumatic stress, but you said there are other things?" She reached across the table and took the one hand that wasn't wrapped around a coffee mug "what's worrying you, Gracie?"

"He's been hanging out with Derek Hale... And there's nothing _wrong_ with that, but he just..." The girl sighed "he has a bit of a reputation, and when I was talking to the sheriff- because I'm paranoid- he told me about all that stuff with the murders."

"Oh, Derek was exonerated. And he's actually very sweet- I've only ever talked to him a few times, but he seemed just fine." Melissa squeezed the slender hand "Scott hangs out around him, too- so does Stiles, and he's the _sheriff's son_. Isaac should be very safe with him- besides, you remember Derek. He's just a private boy in a nosey town."

The girl- Gracie- smiled a little, nodding like she was remembering a sweet memory, and the tension left her shoulders.

"You're right- I was being a little crazy, I guess... Derek was always sweet in school; at least, if you gave him the chance to be." Her expression sobered up and she looked down at her mug "you... Do you think I should talk to Isaac about Dad? He's just so nervous- it verges on terrified- whenever he does something that even _remotely_ bothers me! He looks like he expects me to hit him, and it breaks my heart..."

Suddenly, Scott felt his jaw drop a little as the two puzzle pieces seemed to fit together-

"Are you Isaac's sister?" So much for eavesdropping.

Both women nearly jumped out of their seats as he entered the kitchen.

"Scott, what are you doing? I thought you were going out!" Melissa cried in surprise, rolling her eyes fondly.

"I was just leaving, but I couldn't help but overhear... You are his sister, right?"

"Yes." She smiled at him, looking almost amused "You probably don't remember me- I used to babysit you, and a lot of the other kids in the area."

He did remember her. Vaguely, at least. He could remember saying her name a lot when he was younger- calling her 'Miss Gracie' even though she was barely sixteen years old. It was weird to see her again, but he could see the resemblance to Isaac now that he looked at her again.

"Oh yeah, I remember..." He trailed off awkwardly, wanting to ask a million questions but unable to think of a single one. 'Where the Hell were you while Isaac was getting beaten senseless and locked in freezers?' Was the first thing to come to mind but even _Stiles_ had the willpower to sensor something like that. "Well, I gotta meet Stiles at-"

He felt his phone start vibrating in his pocket, and scowled a little in the confusion. He wasn't running late, why would Derek call?

"Scott, the pack made their move." He sounded gruff and angry as ever, but he could already smell the panic on the alpha _through the phone_.

Something was very wrong.

Waving a quick goodbye to his mom and Grace, Scott practically ran out the door, not caring that he probably looked like a freak as the door almost hit his ass on the the way out, and he felt like he needed his inhaler from the fear and the rush. "What is it? What happened?"

"They attacked the House- Erica's injured, and I... Isaac's gone."


	7. Chapter 7

**Sorry it's so short, I'll make it up to you!**

** I hope this makes it to you in time, zerogravityganja!**

** I own nothing.**

** Enjoy!**

The Hale House was heavy with the scent of blood and fear and feral rage. The intruders smelled slightly rotten- like the brown leaves that were still wet from the stormy fall season- and tinged sharply with the nutty scent of tree bark and dark power.

It had been the alpha.

Erica wasn't healing like she should.

Isaac's scent trailed off into the forest, weighted heavily with the cold terror and metallic tang of blood oozed from every crevice of the direction he was taken.

Derek was pacing like an animal in a cage. Scott took a quiet stance close by, keeping close tabs on Allison and stiles. The two humans were in the guest bedroom of the house with Erica, trying to staunch the bleeding until Dr. Deaton arrived. Derek and Scott waited in the hall, staying out of the way. Boyd didn't seem to care that he could be a hindrance to somebody, and sat as close to the pale, helpless beta wolf laying on the bed as he could without hurting her.

They mumbled to each other, but- honestly- everyone all had more important things to worry about than listening in on their hushed conversations.

"Derek." Scott perked up, hearing a car pulling up to the front of the house.

"I know." Was all the response he got, ground out between gritted teeth as the alpha moved deftly to he front hall to meet the doctor.

Twigs snapped vaguely and animals rustled in the brush as they passed by. Isaac wasn't sure- he wasn't even sure who _they_ were- but he having a hell of a time with the searing pain throbbing through his shoulder, and the pin pricks of claw marks deep in the flesh of his calves and ankles. To him, the happenings in the forest weren't as important as-

Stay awake.

Stay _alive_.

Rough hands gripped at him- something new and distinctly different to the car ride to wherever _here_ was- and shoved him too and fro.

All sense of direction was completely obliterated. The stars barely even looked familiar as he was marched into some small clearing in the woods.

_They were supposed to meet at 6, but Derek never minded when he showed up early, even if the alpha wasn't there. Isaac had always loved that he had a good enough relationship with Derek that the wolf regarded him like he did. It almost reminded him of the way Dad was before Mom died. He just didn't want to be at Gracie's apartment right now: it killed him with guilt to even _think_ about his sister.___

_So he hid at the Pack House, waiting for the whole situation to disappear in true teenager fashion.__  
__  
__The last person he expected was Erica.___

_Usually he was the only pack member to show up before meetings- besides Stiles, but that was entirely different- and yet here she was, sitting at the kitchen island with a glass of water and thoroughly wrecked makeup. She raked her hand over her eyes and down her face like she had the worlds worst headache, and he could smell the salty tang of sad tears all over her.___

_"Hey." Was the only, surprisingly meek and quiet thing she said. Free of her usual sarcasm and slow-burning bloodlust act that Isaac was used to from the only lady beta wolf, she seemed helpless and lonely___

_"Hi." He stuttered back after a second, and _damn_ that stupid nervous habit, because he wasn't scared of her. There was no reason to hesitate around a word he'd said to his packmate a billion times "are you okay?" _that_ wasn't something he said to her all that often. She barked a humorless laugh that made him feel a little sick as he walked slowly to the island, sitting down across from her in awkward quiet.___

_"I'm fine, Isaac." She sighed with an air of irritation, but her heart jumped over the syllables.___

_"It's stupid to lie to a werewolf."___

_The look she sent would be able to level a small city if it only had any bite behind it. She was _this close_ to dropping the act, and he raised an eyebrow at her in a way that said 'you aren't going to get a handwritten invitation or something, so start talking'. It usually worked with Erica.___

_And it did.___

_She sighed and slumped a little in her chair "Boyd and I had a fight."___

_"Again?" It was rare for them to _not_ fight lately.___

_He wasn't entirely sure how long they talked about everything and nothing. The sun set pretty early- at least, it felt like it did. Time got away awfully fast, though, but neither of them were paying much attention.___

_Maybe that was why no one scented or heard the intruder until the massive crash sounded through the kitchen as the window shattered and the wood around it splintered and flew.___

_Erica's wrathful cries and pained whimpers, and the slash and warm bubble of blood and claws rumbled through Isaac's mind for god knows how long. It felt like forever and there were dark shadows that clung to his vision as he clasped his hand to his side.___

_It was just long enough for the intruder's red eyes to bore into his before the world went dark and silent.___


	8. Chapter 8

**Hello :) Review and tell me what you think!**

** I own nothing**

** Enjoy!**

"Where the _HELL_ is my brother?!" Sheriff Stilinski felt a cold lump in his throat as Grace Lahey stormed across the downtrodden leaves on the preserve floor. She was a picture of desperation and... Well, he'd had to deliver a lot of condolences and bad news to a lot of people on this job, but...

But this would be a rough one.

He sighed, taking another halfhearted look at the destruction of the forlorn, chaotic scene around him.

Stiles and Derek _Hale_, of all people, stood by the front door on the porch of the refurbished Hale House. It made sense for Derek to be here, of course- it was his house- but he and Stiles stood close together, whispering and sharing glances that looked like they were a part of some secret language.

It was strange. Something that he and Stiles would have to have a chat about when they got home.

Allison and Scott and were close by them, all watching half protectively and half helplessly as Erica Reyes got checked out by the paramedics- that handsome Boyd kid by her side the whole time.

Inside the house, the damage was incredible. It looked like a sledgehammer was taken to the walls, there was blood _everywhere_. More blood than there should be.

He could only hope that all of this didn't belong to Isaac Lahey, or there would be no way the boy was alive. Wherever he was taken.

"Please tell me... Please tell me he's-" The pretty blonde was barely coherent as she reached him, shaking and her eyes were so teary he doubted she could see anything at all.

"Gracie, I'm sorry. I can't tell you anything to fix this... He's not here." He couldn't be sure that she was gonna stay upright on her own, so he held out a hand, holding her shoulder "we don't know yet where he's gone, or who took him, but were gonna find him, Gracie." And then he made a huge mistake in saying the two words that you _never_ say as a cop. "I promise."

There was something in her eyes that told him that she _knew_ that he wasn't supposed to say those words to her, but she smiled a little and said thank you. He was glad she was back in Beacon Hills- he'd always liked the Lahey girl. She had looked after Stiles when he was little, especially after Julia...

Well, Grace Lahey was a sweet, brave girl if he ever knew one. That was what he was trying to get at.

If anyone could stay strong and even be _helpful_ to this investigation, it was her. And his gut kept telling him that they were gonna need all the help they could get.

Erica's wounds looked like an animal attack.

The amount of blood spoke to some serious violence, but no one had been armed according to the witness account.

The window had been smashed, but not just _smashed_. It was obliterated, as was the window sill and most of the wall surrounding it. It all spoke to intense strength and stamina and such- but none of it seemed to add up.

Animal attack- but animals don't usually break into a _house_. Let alone kidnap someone. That didn't make sense.

Foul play- but a normal human definitely could not possess the amount of resilience and pure muscle to cause damage like that which was in the Hale House.

He just didn't understand.

"Allison?!"

"Dad, I-"

Chris Argent didn't even slow down as he booked past the sheriff, heading straight for his daughter, who looked a mix between hopelessly relieved and incredibly frightened. Chris pulled her arm, tugging her to him and wrapping his arms right around her.

Allison was his only child. John Stilinski could definitely relate to that.

"I _told you_ to stay away from him!" It was a whisper-shout and John could barely hear. He guided Grace by a hand on her back, taking her closer to the porch and wrapping her in a blanket. He told himself that it was because she could go into shock, but he really just wanted to know what Chris thought was so bad that he needed to keep Allison away from.

"I'm not gonna _apologize_, Dad! Scott's never going to hurt me! And this has nothing to do with this- Isaac is _missing_!"

"There's a new pack, Allison- and I want you far away from it."

"Yeah, a new pack that _took Isaac_- they've basically declared war, I can't just leave him now..." Chris almost growled the back of his throat, and the sheriff could have sworn he saw him shoot Derek a sidelong and suspicious glance. But it was gone in a flash.

What the _HELL_ were they even talking about, anyway? Wars, deals, _packs_? It sounded almost like they were talking about dogs or wolves or something, not teenagers and kidnappings.

Was it a gang? Was this gang warfare? John felt his chest tighten and maybe Stiles was right and he needed to lay off the curly fries, because he could _feel_ his blood pressure rising.

Derek Hale would be a gang leader. It made sense to him, he could see it. That certainly wouldn't be the worst he had been accused of, and John mentally ran through all his offenses, all his _suspicious_ behavior- that kid was damn _suspicious_. It would make sense.

And those poor kids, falling into his grasp like that. Isaac, Erica, Boyd, even Scott had been hanging around Derek more often and... And Stiles.

What did he get himself into _now_?


End file.
